


Take My Arm That I Might Reach You

by TheBeckster



Series: Talking Without Speaking, Hearing Without Listening [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Au of another fic, Background/Referened Anakin/Padme, Canon-Typical Violence, Darth Vader Redemption, Female Anakin Skywalker, Gen, Genderbending, Genderswap, In a certain sense, Male Padmé Amidala, Not Canon Compliant, Obi-Wan sees her as Anakin still, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Padme Lives, Rule 63, Split personality between Vader and Anakin, Vader views herself as Vader only, don't worry nobody dies in this AU they just get really big boo-boos
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:27:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25947313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBeckster/pseuds/TheBeckster
Summary: On the banks of Mustafar's lava river, Obi-Wan hears something. Someone calls out for help. He turns back, takes Vader from the burning river bank. Anakin can't be gone, if she asked for help, she has to still be in there.A redemption AU, set in the Wells of Silence universe. Because if Anakin had asked for help, Obi-Wan never would have left.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Darth Vader, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker
Series: Talking Without Speaking, Hearing Without Listening [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/736284
Comments: 33
Kudos: 73





	1. A Cry For Help

**Author's Note:**

> OOPS here's something I didn't think I'd ever write! But Wells has been on my mind a lot recently, and I saw a post on tumblr that basically said "George Lucas had to cut a line where Anakin asked Obi-Wan for help on Mustafar, because if he had, Obi-Wan never would have left him to die" and That Shit HURTED. And then, because I was bored at work, and Wells was fresh on my mind I started thinking about how much more it could hurt if it took place in the Wells Universe, and then the words just started flowing and I actually had a story.
> 
> Old readers of Wells, Welcome back! I miss you and I love you and I hope you like this!  
> New readers, Hi! I love you too and I also hope you enjoy this!
> 
> For a little context, since I'm dropping into the story right in the middle of something important, heres a quick and dirty summary of Wells of Silence: it's a genderswapped AU of ROTS where in female!Anakin has the twins approximately one month prior her fall to the Dark Side. She does all the terrible, horrible things her canon counterpart does, culminating in her husband, Padme, taking the twins to Mustafar to confront and rescue her. Rex has been brought along for the ride, as he was asked by Anakin prior to her fall to go and protect her children, and Obi-Wan, as he does, stowed away on the ship as well. We pick up immediately at the end of Anakin and Obi-Wan's duel.  
> If you are interested in reading the full story, check out the main fic, Wells of Silence, in this collection. It's been completed for a couple years now, and I'm still super proud of it. In fact, I keep coming back to play with this AU. I might have another AU of Wells in the works, but I won't say anything else yet.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy reading this! I'm having a lot of fun writing it! And while I don't think it's going to turn into a particularly long fic in the end, but I think it's gonna be one hell of an emotional ride.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> -Becks
> 
> PS- I'll be adding tags as I figure out what will happen in the fic. Keep your eyes on those for any particular content warnings. Additionally, I will put content warnings in the beginning note of each chapter. Alas, I am only human, please let me know if I have missed a tag or warning and I'll be sure to add it.
> 
> Content Waring: Description of physical injury, dismemberment, depictions of difficulty breathing, power imbalances.

Obi-Wan stood on the lava bank above her, chest heaving, heart breaking, lightsabers loose in his hands.

Anakin was clawing her way up the bank, slowly, agonized. The task made no easier by hew newly missing limbs. They had fallen into the river, there was no saving them. There was no saving her.

"You were my sister, Anakin! I loved you."

Anakin pulled herself another inch towards him, her hatred rolled off her in waves more powerful than the heat of the lava river flowing behind her. "I HATE YOU!" she roared.

Obi-Wan turned his back on her. He couldn't kill her, but injured as she was, on this Force-forsaken rock, breathing in the poisoned gasses released by melting stones, she wouldn't last much longer.

A new sound reached his ear, a sob, not of rage or pain, but of desperation. He hesitated, and looked over his shoulder. Would Anakin force his hand? Would she make him drive his blade through her heart?

"Obi-Wan." Her voice was softer, raw. "Promise me you'll protect them."

He turned fully back to her. She had pushed her remaining arm beneath her and lifted herself up enough so he could see her face. Tears had cut tracks through the ash and soot.

"If you're going to take them from me, at least promise me you'll protect them."

"I will, Anakin. I'll keep them safe. Even from you."

Her face twisted into something terrible and hateful, though Obi-Wan didn't think it was meant for him. Her arm gave out and she crashed into the burning sand and let herself rest there. The smell of burning flesh reached Obi-Wan. She made no motion to pull herself up the bank.

Obi-Wan knew he should turn, run, do what he had just promised and protect Luke and Leia from their own mother. He should complete his mission. He should leave Anakin to die. She was Sith now, there could be no redemption for her – not after all she had done.

The Force stirred around him and it carried a voice, not entirely unlike Anakin's. " _Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi, you're my only hope."_

Despite himself, Obi-Wan stepped down the bank and knelt at Anakin's side. The sand was so hot; it burned through his pants, searing the skin beneath instantly. He ignored it, and pulled Anakin into his arms. She was weak, bordering on unconsciousness. She didn't fight him, he wasn't even sure she was aware of the change. Her head lolled against his shoulder as he adjusted his hold on her and began the slow walk back to the landing platform.

He called for Rex on the landing platform. The clone chose not to comment on Anakin’s very-much-alive status. They carried Anakin to the farthest possible corner of the ship from Padme and the twins. He could hear the babies wailing. They were next on his list of priorities.

Without being called for, R2D2 arrived at his side with the ship's first aid kit. There wasn't much to be done for Anakin's lightsaber wounds, they were cauterized and couldn't be treated with the kit's meager supplies. A salve could be applied to the burns on Anakin's face, perhaps they would lessen the scarring, but his first priority was keeping her unconscious. If she woke before she was secured, there was no telling what further damage she could wreak, not in her current mental state.

Before he could ready the hypo, Anakin stirred. Her eyes slid open and the sickly yellow things reflected confusion, hurt, distrust as they focused on Obi-Wan and Rex. It took her a moment to form words, and the only thing to pass her lips was a shaking, breathless, "Help."

"I will, Anakin." Obi-Wan plunged the hypo into her neck. The sedatives hit her instantly and she went out like a light.

"Sir," Rex began as soon as they stepped away from Anakin's berth.

"Get us in the air, Rex. Take us to Polis Massa." Obi-Wan commanded, his voice heavy with exhaustion. "Anakin and Padme both need medical attention."

The clone went for the ship controls. Obi-Wan went to the stateroom. Padme was in bad shape, whatever Anakin had done to him had caused a lot of damage, and he could only pray that the small mining colony was equipped to heal him, or at the very least stabilize him. The twins were wailing, and Obi-Wan could feel their pain.

They were so raw, so open to the Force, they felt everything. Their mother's pain, their father's, Obi-Wan’s, and the gaping hole in the Force that used to be the Jedi. He had to protect them from all the pain, but more importantly from Anakin.

He picked up Leia and tucked her into the crook of his arm before carefully scooping Luke into the other. It struck him how much the twins had already grown in their short month of life – a few months longer and he wouldn't be able to hold them both at once. They soothed at his touch, at being held, but their whimpers did not stop. They felt far too much to be comforted in this moment. Obi-Wan turned his focus upon them in the Force. They shone like stars, as bright as their mother.

They almost hurt to look at, as they had yet developed their innate shields. He moved deeper, past their sunny exteriors to find a small web of interconnections, Force bonds. The brightest and strongest was between the two of them, it came into existence with them, it could probably never be broken by mortal means. Dim bonds connected them to Rex and Obi-Wan. A strong bond connected them to their father. But strongest of all, only outshone by the twin's bond, was to their mother, to Anakin. Forged during her pregnancy and solidified after their birth. It had to be broken.

To keep the twins safe, they had to lose their mother. Obi-Wan focused on that bond. It was so unlike his bond to Anakin, it wasn't brittle, faint, purposefully neglected and tainted by the Dark Side. It flowed with love, but a terrible kind. This love was possession, control, obsession. It was love born of fear, not of joy. Had it always been like that? Anakin had been so afraid of losing her children from the moment she had known of their existence. Had her love for them ever been pure, or had it always been shadowed by the looming specter of loss?

There was great pain in the bond, anger and hatred; the babies couldn't understand it, but it hurt them nonetheless. The hatred weakened the bond, gave Obi-Wan a way in, from there he was able to produce a gap, and slowly break the bond apart entirely.

Like an elastic pulled tight, the bonds snapped back to their respective halves. The twins stopped crying, their pain finally eased, they settled quickly into exhausted sleep. Obi-Wan set them carefully on the bed.

He checked Padme, still unconscious and fading slowly. He checked on Anakin, heavily sedated and dead to the world. And he finally settled into the cockpit with Rex just as they jumped into hyperspace.

"You didn't kill her."

A simple statement of fact, as nonaccusatory as could be, and yet Obi-Wan felt judged.

"Sir, I could-"

"No."

"Why?"

Obi-Wan was quiet for a moment, unsure what exactly had changed his mind. He had been ready to leave here there on the burning sand, leave her fate up to the will of the Force. Until... "She asked for help."

* * *

Anakin's arrival on Polis Massa was unwelcomed, but accepted. The med droids placed the Senator and the Jedi in adjacent surgical suites. Padme's throat was crushed, his ribs cracked and nearly shattered, but the surgical droids were optimistic with their prognosis. They could heal him, but he would never be entirely whole.

Anakin was a simpler matter. Lost limbs were a common injury in a mining colony. Her burns were minor and would not scar much of her face. Her lungs were most damaged. The poisoned gas of Mustafar's melting rock had wreaked damage upon her lungs, but nothing irreversible. If she had been left to lie longer, that would have been a different matter. Regenerative therapy could restore and repair the damaged tissue, but there was a chance her lungs would never fully recover.

They knew restraints wouldn't do much if Anakin woke, so they requested the med droids keep her restrained and sedated. The Jedi had a lot of problems to solve before they let the newest Sith wake up.

Padme survived his surgery, but would need extensive recovery and therapy to fully recover. The Jedi wanted to hide him and the twins away somewhere, but Padme wanted to return home. He wanted to return to his family, to the friends he had pushed away over the last few years. There was strength in family, and he knew it was time his parents met their grandchildren. The Naboo had ways of protecting their former King and Senator, but the Jedi were wary. Naboo would be the first place Anakin went looking for her husband and children.

But Padme was adamant. He didn't want to take a sojourn to Alderaan until things settled down. His faith in his people and his planet was steadfast. They would be safe on Naboo, from all threats.

So then the next problem became containing Anakin. Where could they put her where she couldn't hurt anyone, where she wouldn't immediately take her children away, or worse return to her new Master?

She would need watching, supervision by someone who could potentially rehabilitate her. Someone who believed in redeeming her. Someone who thought he deserved a lifetime of exile.

In the end, there was only one place to take her, and one person who would try to save her.

Padme couldn't, wouldn't. As much as he loved Anakin and believed with all his heart that there was still good in her, their children were more important, their safety was paramount. And he needed Naboo's medicine and protection to ensure he did survive Anakin's attack. Even though he did want to help his wife, the effort would kill him and hurt their children. He had thought he would give anything for Anakin, but he couldn't orphan their children.

Bail was more concerned with helping Padme than Anakin. His loyalties lay with his friend, with democracy, with hope that the Republic could be recovered from the ashes.

Master Yoda would not take Anakin. He believed her beyond help. He believed her survival was a mistake and failure, but considering he had failed to destroy his own Sith lord, he did not cast judgement too harshly. He simply wished Obi-Wan luck, and left him the blessing of the Force, and additional homework while in exile.

Rex had his own missions to attend to. After Order 66, after being separated from his brothers, from people he cared about... he had to know what happened. He had to look for survivors, and maybe save a few lives.

Obi-Wan knew exactly where to take her. Someplace Palpatine wouldn't find her. Someplace she wouldn't hurt anyone else.

* * *

It was disconcerting how inconspicuous he remained, dragging an unconscious body around Tatooine. It wasn't exactly like he could hide the medical pod that kept Anakin sedated, but what surprised and disturbed him was that nobody batted an eye, asked him what he was doing, or raise concern that he was keeping a young woman in that state. The implications horrified him, but he wasn’t ungrateful that he could exploit the citizens’ aptitude for turning a blind eye.

Tatooine was a place for people who didn't want to be found. It was so easy to disappear into the desert sand and find isolation.

The Force led Obi-Wan into the wastes the locals had warned him against. He found an abandoned homestead, long ago emptied of its inhabitants. But it was still structurally sound, it kept the sand and sun out, and there was just enough space. It could be made livable with a little work and supplies.

* * *

Vader knew before she even opened her eyes that time had passed. Too much time to mean anything good.

Her eyes slid open and focused on a familiar and yet entirely foreign ceiling. The practical adobe in a low, sloping ceiling, the hot and dry air, without seeing it, she knew if she looked outside there would be two suns blazing in the sky and turning the sand into a fiery sea.

Why did this place have to be her prison? Of all the planets, they picked her most personal hell.

There was noise in the other room, the unhurried puttering of a body around a living space. There was a presence, familiar, comforting and threatening at the same time. And that presence was it. Where there should have been others, there was nothing, a void as barren as the desert surrounding her.

Her children, where were they?! Why couldn't she sense them?

Vader sat up. She was weak, weaker than she had ever been, even weaker than after she had just delivered the twins. She threw her legs onto the floor and shot up from the bed. Feeble and unresponsive limbs gave her exactly one second on her feet before she was crashing to the floor.

How long had she been kept unconscious? How could she be so weak? Why had her children been stolen from her? Were they even alive? Had she failed to protect them?

She tried speaking, shouting, yelling in frustration, but her chest felt too tight. Like there were iron bands around her that wouldn't allow her to draw a deep enough breath to speak.

The other had taken notice. He stood in the doorway of the tiny bedroom.

Obi-Wan looked down at Anakin for a moment. He had known she would wake soon, but had thought she wouldn't have instantly tried to get out of bed. Stupid of him, really, it was Anakin after all.

She looked pathetic, crumpled on the floor, gasping for breath, too weak to do anything but glare up at him. Her yellow eyes flashed with distrust.

He moved slowly, careful to project his intentions so as not to startle her. He tried not to think of her as a feral creature, but in a way, she was. He couldn't trust that she wouldn't assume he meant her harm and lash out.

She pulled back, and gasped out a single demand. “Where are they?”

Obi-Wan held her gaze firmly. “They are safe from you.”

“Alive?”

“Yes.”

What little strength she had ran out. She let him touch her, lift her up and place her back on the bed. She kept trying to speak, but couldn’t form the words. He could hear from the wheeze of her lungs that she was in need of her medication.

He retrieved the mask from the shelf and held it out for her. As expected, her distrustful glare sharpened.

"Your lungs were damaged on Mustafar, Anakin, this medicine will help heal them."

She glowered.

Obi-Wan sighed. "It's not poison, I've been medicating you with this four times a day."

He could see her considering his words. After a moment of consideration, she bowed her head.

Obi-Wan slipped the strap around her head and settled the breather mask over her mouth and nose. He flicked a switch and the medication released into the air flow.

"Breathe normally; it will take a few minutes. Try not to go anywhere." He stood back from the bed. "I'll bring you some tea."

When he returned, Anakin hadn't moved, much to his relief. She was studying her new limbs with unmasked disdain. The prosthetics were basic, a little crude, but functional. Of course Anakin would hate them. Maybe someday she could be allowed to make modifications.

The room was silent, save for the soft whir of the medicated mask. They glared at each other, sizing each other up, gauging abilities. Obi-Wan almost saw the moment Anakin realized she was entirely at his mercy until her strength returned. Her eyes hardened and shifted to reluctant acceptance, the distrust remained.

The soft whirring slowed to silence. Anakin's breath had slowed and eased. She let him take the mask off and set it back on the shelf.

"Drink this, Anakin. It'll help you regain your strength." He held up the cup of tea.

"Don't call me that," she growled.

He frowned, harsh, angry. "It's your name."

"No. Anakin Skywalker is dead. I killed her."

"So you think." He pressed the cup into her right hand, her good hand now. The metal fingers curled around the clay cup. She couldn't feel the warmth of the tea in her hands, wouldn't ever feel such a thing again. "Drink. Rest. Later, we'll try some broth."

To Vader, the cup felt impossibly heavy, a few ounces of liquid and a simple clay cup should not have required such effort to bring to her lips. She could have asked for help, Obi-Wan hovered, watching, waiting for her to beg. Resolutely, she drank the cup on her own, not making eye contact with him.

She recognized the flavor of the tea, it was found only on Tatooine, blended from native flora and fungi. It was the only thing that passed for tea on this sand pit, and it wasn't like Obi-Wan could have brought his own. Imports were available at market, but they were expensive. Vader had always hated the tea. She had only ever been forced to drink it when she had been sick as a child.

By the time she took her last sip, her hand was shaking from the effort of lifting the light weight to her mouth a half dozen times. What had they done to her? Anger flared up inside her. If she had her strength, if she wasn't at Kenobi's mercy... her weakness shamed her. She could hear her Master's voice ringing in her ears, berating her.

A sharp snap cut through her inner voice, followed by a low gasp. There were hands on hers, forcibly uncurling her fingers from around the shattered cup in her grip.

With a careful use of the Force, Obi-Wan gathered the shards into the mostly intact bottom of the cup. "Try not to do that too often," he admonished softly, "We only have so many cups."

He left to dispose of the broken cup.

Vader felt her body grow heavy, and her eyes slid closed. She couldn't help but surrender to sleep. Had the tea been drugged?

She woke again, hours later, judging by the changed quality of light in her room. Obi-Wan was waiting at her bedside. At some point, she had been lain down and a blanket tucked around her. She sat up quickly in alarm, her body protested to the sudden upheaval, but didn't send her into another coughing fit.

"What did you do to me?" Vader growled.

"I kept you sedated and in a coma for quite some time," he stated simply. "Your body will take time to recover its strength. Food will help." He offered a small bowl.

The broth inside was clear, aromatic, meaty. Vader eyed it suspiciously.

"I haven't drugged it. Your body is just exhausted."

Vader pushed it away. He had kept her sedated for so long, why wouldn't he continue to do so? She wanted answers before she slipped back into oblivion.

Her heart ached, empty spaces throbbing in absence. His close proximity and enormous distance made the emptiness so much more obvious. Those bonds ever should have broken, not while she still drew breath. Either he had done something to her, to them, or he had lied.

“I want proof they’re alive.”

Obi-Wan sighed heavily. “That’s not my decision to make.”

“You took them from me. You can provide proof they’re safe.”

“It’ll take time. I’ll see what I can do. Until then,” he offered the bowl once more. “If you do not eat, you won’t survive to see your proof.”

Vader growled, but took the bowl. Blackmail… how devious of him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vader and Obi-Wan adjust to imprisonment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've come to realize my process for writing this story is basically just "How can I give myself a lot of feels?" and yaknow what I think I'm pretty okay with that.
> 
> Enjoy!  
> -Becks

It took a few days before Vader's body remembered the strength and balance necessary to leave her bed. Truthfully, she probably should have taken things a little slower, but she wasn't about to leave herself at Kenobi's mercy any longer than necessary. It was bad enough having to rely on him to help her hobble around the house those first couple days. Infuriatingly, the flesh and the spirit were at odds. Just moving around the small homestead was enough to tax her damaged lungs, and she had to keep at least one hand in contact with a solid surface to keep her balance.

Kenobi wouldn't tell her how long he had kept her unconscious, but the weakened wasting of her muscles and the healed tissue around her new prosthetic ports gave her an idea. More indicative of lost time were her dry, empty breasts. She had been nursing newborn twins, it would have taken weeks for her body to adjust to that change, maybe even a couple months. That particular knowledge, that her children had been deprived of her care and protection, if they were even still alive, was enough for her to see red.

This was Kenobi's fault. He had taken them away from her. _To protect them_ , he claimed. Where could they be safer except at her side?

She had to escape. She wouldn't be imprisoned in this sandy hell for the remainder of her life, trapped beneath Kenobi's thumb. Her children needed her. She had to retrieve them, keep them safe, and then return to her Master. He would be disappointed with her failure on Mustafar, her inability to destroy the Jedi. She would pay dearly for her failure, but if she knew her children were safe, protected, always with her, she would withstand every punishment.

There was little of use in the home. Tools could be repurposed in a pinch, but if she didn't want to die of thirst, she wasn't going to break the only things that could fix their vaporators. They had one speeder. An ancient piece of shit that was going to break down one day and leave them stranded to starve. And Kenobi kept it disabled, the necessary spark plug kept on his person at all times. Her strength was not yet returned enough to try and take it by force, and he knew her too well to attempt subtlety.

Added to everything else, she discovered another frustration. She couldn't find her lightsaber, or Kenobi's. She doubted he would ever give up his weapon permanently. It had to be hidden somewhere along with the means of her escape from this prison.

She watched and waited two weeks, until they needed food and supplies again. Kenobi left her behind in the morning, promising to return before tomorrow's suns set. He took the speeder and left her unsupervised and unrestrained, and she didn't see or sense his lightsaber anywhere in him. Idiot, going out into the desert unarmed.

As soon as he disappeared over the horizon, she ransacked the place.

It wasn't there. There was nothing useful!

Not his lightsaber or hers. No broken down components, no hidden kyber crystals. Not in the house, not in the small cave beneath it, or the small barn-turned garage. She checked every inch of the house; there were no hidden wall panels, no freshly applied adobe to cover a carved away hole, no loose slab of pourstone. The cave turned up nothing, no moveable rocks that might hide her treasure. The sand outside shifted too much to rely on identifying finding freshly dug patches, but she should have heard the singing of the crystals even through meters of dirt and rock. Kenobi's kyber crystal was almost as familiar as her own, she knew its voice, and as much as she tried, she couldn't catch the barest strain of its song.

Anywhere she thought to hide them, there was nothing. Anywhere she thought Kenobi might try to hide something came up equally empty.

It made no sense! Kenobi wouldn't leave himself weaponless. How could she not find his lightsaber?

Fuming, wracking her brain to think of where they might be, she sat in the middle of the floor, and she thought, and she waited.

That was where Kenobi found her when the first sun touched the horizon on the second day, sitting there, legs crossed amidst the chaos of her ransacking.

He heaved a weary sigh from the doorway. "You really think I would have left you with a lightsaber, Anakin?"

A flash of irritation struck through her as she glowered up at him. That was not her name anymore. "Where are they?"

"Gone, far away."

Liar, he loved his lightsaber. He would never let it go beyond his reach. " _This weapon is your life_ ," she quoted mockingly. “ _You_ wouldn’t just throw it away.”

He sighed again, his voice heavy with sorrow. "We both know you're plenty lethal without a lightsaber. It’s best to remove the temptation."

Vader bared her teeth in a predatory scowl. He was right to fear her prowess. An image flashed across her mind, a memory, raising her hand, feeling a life trapped in her grasp, the heart beating against her like a bird in a cage, she squeezed and crushed that life, the bird fell to the floor, lifeless. She felt pride, vindication, the rush of victory, and horror.

Kenobi was talking again, he had moved into the house, dropping his sack of supplies on the kitchen counter. "... expect you to clean up after yourself."

Vader bared her teeth again. She wasn't his padawan anymore. He could not order her around. "Make me."

Kenobi's gaze was flat, unimpressed. He held up a little silver disk, a holo projector. "You don't get your proof until you clean up."

Vader's heart pounded and gave a nervous lurch, fury flashed through her. Was this a gamble? A bluff?

She wouldn't be certain that was proof her children were alive, safe, healthy until after she bent to Kenobi's whim. He wouldn't be easily overpowered; taking the projector by force wasn't an option. She was still too weak.

She scanned the room, she had been thorough with her ransacking, but even still they had so little in the house, it wouldn't take long. She unfolded herself from the floor, got to her feet, and snatched up the closest item to begin picking up.

Kenobi nodded, satisfied, and turned to put the newly acquired rations away.

* * *

Obi-Wan had expected Anakin to trash the place the first chance she got. He had watched her carefully over the last couple weeks since she woke up, and her intention to escape was obvious. He had taken great care to ensure that couldn't happen.

The only way without the speeder was on foot, and even if she had hoarded enough food and water to last her long enough to get to a settlement, her prosthetics wouldn't allow it. The sand would get deep into the sensitive mechanics and render them immobile. Already, she was mostly confined to the house. Her trips out into their sandy surroundings had been kept brief and followed by a long session of complaints and cleaning. One day, he hoped, when she was less of a flight risk, he could get Anakin some properly fitting boots and gloves that could seal the sand out. Though, he had come to realize, nothing ever kept all sand out. It got everywhere.

It didn't take long to unload another fortnight's worth of supplies, their food was primarily dehydrated rations. The vaporators provided enough for their water needs. There wasn’t much else they needed.

Next time, he hoped to get supplies to create a small garden, fresh vegetables, even the hardy, tasteless things that could manage in Tatooine's sand, would be a necessity. After three years at war, subsisting on military rations, both he and Anakin knew to appreciate whatever fresh food they could get. Already, he was forging a trading relationship with a local tribe of Tuskens. That would be essential to stay supplied in bantha milk and meat. Those people were shy, wary of trading with a solitary human, and he didn't have much to offer that they could want or use, but for now, the mother-daughter pair he was in contact with were fine taking a few wupi-wupi for their goods.

That was another problem in need of fixing, money. His supply of funds was rapidly dwindling, and he would need to find some way to make an income. The republic credits he had were now defunct. He had been able to exchange most of them for the local currency, though even those would probably go out of style soon. He had heard talk of the Empire unifying all currency underneath the Imperial Credit, and enforcing that even on such far removed worlds as Tatooine. He wondered the efficaciousness of that campaign, as even in the days of the Republic, its money was no good on Tatooine. A few Republic Credits he kept, not for sentimentality, but practicality. One day they may be worth more than their original value as collector's items. Or at the very least, someone might take them for the value of the metal.

So far, the Empire's presence on Tatooine was only in news and rumor, he hadn't seen any familiar white armor patrolling the streets yet, but he was certain it was only a matter of time.

He expected one day that Palpatine would realize his apprentice was hidden on her home planet and come seeking her. Obi-Wan could only hope that Anakin was removed enough from the Sith Lord's influence to resist his call.

Bringing Anakin back from the Dark Side was not going to be a quick or easy process, he had come to realize. It wasn't like pulling off a leech, or removing a splinter. The poison of the Dark Side was deep in her soul, an infection in her blood. Only time would tell if the process would be more like drawing poison from a wound, or treating an addict. He suspected the latter. It would be a constant battle to keep Anakin from giving into her dark impulses, even without Palpatine's help pushing her deeper.

Obi-Wan finished putting away his supplies before Anakin had finished her cleaning. She did have more to do, but that was a consequence of her own actions. He turned to his own bedroom to clean up the mess she had made in there. The less Anakin lurked in his personal space, at the moment, the better. She had taken particular glee in trashing his room in her search for their lightsabers. At least she didn’t break anything this time.

Anakin's lightsaber was far, far away, out of her grasp, and his. Padme had asked to keep his wife's lightsaber. He promised to keep it secret and safe, and when Anakin was ready, when she was worthy of it again, she could return to him and get it back. Obi-Wan's was a little closer, though just out of reach.

One of the first signs of civilization on the other side of the Jundland Wastes was a moisture farmer's homestead. Owen Lars had been the one to direct Obi-Wan to this isolated homestead, where some unlucky soul had hoped to make a fortune from Tatooine's rock. It was perfectly suited for their needs. Back near Anchorhead, a moisture farmer had been convinced to store a Jedi relic, hidden well in the odds and ends of a farmer's tools.

In an emergency, it could be retrieved, and Obi-Wan didn't think the Larses were the type to sell the lightsaber or sell him out. They knew what he was trying to do out here, the redemption he was trying to give Shmi Skywalker's beloved daughter. It was for his stepmother that Owen had even agreed to help in the first place.

Obi-Wan and Anakin cleaned in silence, they didn't speak much anymore. He tried initiating conversation, and sometimes she would reply and follow the flow of conversation, and sometimes she would snap something sharp and rude and that would be the end of things. Right now, in the mood she was in and with the information he held over her head, he didn’t even bother trying to speak to her. It wouldn’t end well.

When she finished, she stepped up behind him silently. He turned. She loomed over him, her hand held out expectantly, her Sith-yellow eyes glowering.

 _Force_ , he would never get used to seeing those sickly things in place of Anakin's blues.

Wordlessly, Obi-Wan scanned their house. It was as if hurricane Vader had never swept through, everything was back in place. He pulled the holo projector from his pocked and dropped it into Anakin's hand. She turned away from him for privacy, but Obi-Wan already knew what the message contained. He had watched it enough times. He turned his back and set to preparing their evening meal.

He heard a voice, slightly distorted in the holo, their feed had been heavily encrypted, but it was still recognizable. Padme said, " _Hello, Anakin. You asked for proof, I hope you'll believe this._ " Obi-Wan knew Padme would have just stepped out of frame, and returned a second later, holding the twins.

He felt the strength leave Anakin, for a brief moment it felt like the air had been sucked from the room. He didn’t have to watch to know what she was seeing. The twins had grown a lot since he had last seen them, their faces were beginning to take shape, their hair differentiating them, it was becoming clearer which child took after which parent, physically at least. Padme held them easily, comfortably; the babies rested their heads against his shoulders and stared at him and each other, rather than the holo recorder.

" _Say hi to mamma_ ," Padme's voice said. He picked up Luke's little hand and made the baby wave. Leia gave a plaintive little cry. Padme pressed a kiss to her forehead. " _It's almost bed time, they're hungry and sleepy_." He paused for a moment, " _Anakin..._ " there, the holo cut, skipped for a brief moment. Whatever Padme had recorded, he had deleted and started over. " _We miss you. We... I...”_ a pause, a heavy sigh, _“Come back to us someday, please._ "

The recording ended. Obi-Wan dared a look over his shoulder. Anakin was frozen at the table, haphazardly dropped into one of the chairs.

Her emotions were a tumultuous storm of grief and hope, anger and joy, and pain, so much pain. She didn't speak for a long time.

Obi-Wan set a bowl in front of her on the table. "That was recorded yesterday. Is it proof enough?"

Anakin snatched up her bowl and the holo projector and stormed off to her room. Obi-Wan ate his dinner in silence. The storm of emotion locked behind Anakin's door never lessened. He heard the recording play again. Obi-Wan cleaned up, showered (sonics, water was too precious to waste in such ways), and retired to his own room. He meditated for a long time before finally going to bed. Over and over he heard the recording play.

* * *

There was a change in Anakin after that day. Nothing drastic, but Obi-Wan noticed. She talked a little easier, her voice turned back closer to the warm tones that had been Anakin, not the empty voice of Vader. Her mood remained mercurial, as normal, but with wilder swings than Anakin's had ever been. A comment one day could procure almost a smile, or a teasing remark. The same comment the next day could send her into a rage. Obi-Wan treaded carefully day by day, and he learned to recognize the currents of her darkened emotions.

Obi-Wan was certain that proof of life of her husband and children had been the catalyst for her improvement, even the dark miasma that was her presence in the Force seemed smaller, less pervasive. Still enough to wear on him, grate against his shields, and disturb him with the wrongness of it all. Within the Force it was like looking at a creature that had squeezed itself into Anakin's form, it wore her face, but imitated her imperfectly. Physically it manifested in her Sith-gold eyes.

At least, Obi-Wan hoped, Anakin was past her impulse to attempt to murder him in his sleep. She had come to understand that only together would they make it off Tatooine alive, if ever that future came.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little levity as Obi-Wan and Anakin settle into long-term life on Tatooine.

Rations were low again. It had been two weeks since Obi-Wan had brought back Padme’s proof of life, and it was time for another run to Anchorhead. Obi-Wan would have to leave Anakin here alone again for a couple days. He worried more about leaving her now that she was conscious and mobile than he had when she was still comatose.

Would he come back to find the house destroyed again? Or would she simply be gone?

She was nowhere close to being stable or trustworthy enough to even dream of taking her along on a supply run. If she got too close to other people, too close to the Larses, she would break free from him and get back to Palpatine. If Palpatine got her now, there would be nothing he, or anyone else could do, to help her.

Obi-Wan didn’t want to go. But he had to. They needed food. He needed to begin collecting things that would settle them in on Tatooine long-term. Anakin’s recovery was going to take a very long time and they needed to figure out how to live on this planet, no just survive.

“We should try growing our own food,” Obi-Wan brought up at dinner the night before his next supply run.

Anakin looked at him quietly, her expression clearly saying, _It’s taken you this long to figure that out? Idiot_.

Obi-Wan pressed on, ignoring her silent insult. “I’m unfamiliar with the plants that will grow in this climate. What do you think I should get tomorrow?”

Anakin sat up a little straighter. There was an almost haughty-triumphant smirk on her face – she always did love knowing something Obi-Wan didn’t. She sat for a moment in silent thought, holding her knowledge over him before saying, “Nothing but Black Melons will grow in bare sand, and they’re foul. You’ll have to establish beds and get compost and soil conditioner to give anything with a root system a hope of finding nutrients. Any supply shop should stock that. Mushrooms do okay in shaded places, provided they get some moisture. There are succulents you can harvest and eat the leaves. And a handful of different root crops you can try.”

“Specific names would be helpful.”

Anakin shrugged. “What’s available will depend on the season. Take me with you and I can show you what will be good to get.”

“Not a chance.”

“The you’d better hope the shopkeepers are in a generous mood with their time. They’ll tell you.”

Obi-Wan resisted rolling his eyes. That was a very thinly veiled ploy. “I think I’ll manage.”

And manage he did. Two days later, Obi-Wan was back from his supply run with the speeder loaded up with gardening supplies and dehydrated rations.

Anakin had chased him from the house with a whispered request, “Can you bring back more proof?”

“I will try,” he said with soft eyes and sympathetic promise. He returned with only an apology. “I waited as long as I could. There was no word from Padme. But it has only been two weeks since his last message. He has to be careful. He has to stay safe. Contacting us too frequently could expose them.”

Vader understood, but Vader did not like it. To Obi-Wan it was only a few weeks between messages. To her every day separated from her children was living a lifetime of heartbreak. Every day she thought of them. How much had they grown? What had they learned? How safe could they be without her guarding them?

“Some work will keep you distracted,” Obi-Wan bracingly.

He was wrong. Work would not help her in the least.

Vader lurked inside the house, eyeing what she could see from her vantage point inside the open door. It looked like he had gotten everything they would need. It wasn’t that she had really doubted he would have been able to get everything for the garden, she had just wanted to see him fail a little and maybe forget something important. Of course, he didn’t. Bastard.

She made no effort to help him unload the heavy bags of compost and soil, nor carry the trays of seedlings into the shaded shelter of the house. She still couldn’t go out into the sand as Obi-Wan had not deigned to provide her with shoes.

When he handed over the sack of rations, she at least turned to put them away in the kitchen. She skimmed over their selection of meals for the next two weeks – nothing particularly appetizing, and it would be a couple months before any of Obi-Wan’s gardening endeavors produced fruit. She curled her lip until she came across a package of dried and salted bantha meat. Not as nice as fresh, but at least it was real food. Must have cost a more than a few wupi-wupi to get the meat from a settlement market. Tuskens jealously guarded their herds, and when they traded with settlements, they charged a premium for bantha products. Meat like this and all the gardening supplies had probably taken quite the chunk out of their funds. Obi-Wan would have to fix that soon.

Vader finished putting away the rations before Obi-Wan finished unloading the speeder. She turned to better inspect the plants he had managed to get his hands on. He had gotten the Tatooine-standard of garden vegetables, nothing exciting there. As a child, her mother and other slaves grew the very same vegetables in obsessively tended community boxes. Some seasons they made the difference between starvation and survival when Masters became greedy. He had even picked up a couple packets of mushroom spores at the market, though where he expected those to grow, she couldn’t begin to imagine.

Obi-Wan entered with the last pallet of seedlings. He nodded towards the spore packet in Vader’s hand. “I thought we could try growing those in the cave beneath the house. It’s cool and dark enough, we’ll probably just have give them some media to grow on and enough moisture.”

“Good luck with that.” Vader tossed the packet aside. Actually, the cave would probably be ideal for growing mushrooms. Since it had proven useless to the miner who had built this house, the least it could do was give them some use. These ones would need some exposure to UV radiation to grow, but that could be easily rigged up.

It took her a moment to realize Obi-Wan hadn’t moved. He was frowning at her with his hands on his hips. "You know, if you don't want to live only on ration packs, I'll need your help with the garden."

Vader scoffed. "I don't _do_ plants. You know that. I have two black thumbs."

"Well, now you have none of your original thumbs, so perhaps the curse has gone with them," Obi-Wan said, almost flippantly.

"Really?" Vader laughed harshly, not exactly angry at his jab. She was rather surprised he had stooped to such a level. It had been a long time since she had heard snark like that from him. " _You_ don't get to bring up my hands, considering you cut one of them off!"

Obi-Wan shrugged. "I had the high ground. You knew better." He stepped past her, into the kitchen. "Put it this way, Anakin, if you want to eat the food, you have to help grow it."

Vader growled and stalked after him. "Fine, but if anything survives, I will be the one to cook it. Those poor plants will be tough and flavorless as they are, letting you cook them will render them inedible."

"And what's wrong with my cooking?!" Obi-Wan demanded. "You haven't had reason to complain yet."

"Rehydrating rations is a hell of a big difference to actual cooking."

Obi-Wan almost looked hurt. "I thought I was getting better. You certainly asked me to cook for you a lot back at the Temple."

Vader laughed, an almost smile on her lips. "Well, it's not unusual for a person to develop pica during pregnancy. Most try eating metal or plastic to soothe the craving for inedible substances... I ate your cooking."

“Now you are just being rude for the sake of it.”

Vader narrowed her eyes at him and turned away to examine the seedlings once again. She didn’t want to garden. She’d never been any good at keeping anything green alive. And she certainly didn’t find any pleasure in spending hours out in the hot suns, digging through the dirt. But… she _did_ want to eat real food once in a while. Then something occurred to her, a get-out-of-gardening-free card.

“You seem to have forgotten something important.”

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. “Oh? What’s that?”

Vader lifted her hands, wiggling the prosthetic fingers – as crude and useless as the left one and her legs were, they couldn’t handle any sand getting inside them. Just a few minutes digging through sand would lock them up and render them useless. And she hadn’t seen anything that resembled boots or gloves in their new supplies.

To her dismay, Obi-Wan smiled, just a little vindictive, “Oh, not to worry, Anakin. I’ve got you covered.”

“I fucking hate you,” Vader growled, pulling on the sand protection Obi-Wan had gotten for her. They were little more than long plastic gloves and boots, thick enough to stand up to moderate physical activity and with an adhesive strip at the ends to create something like a seal. Things like this were supposed to protect casts or non-waterproofed prosthetics from liquid spills, but Obi-Wan had infuriatingly deduced that they would serve well enough to protect her limbs from the sand. He’d bought an entire case each of hand and foot covers.

Obi-Wan looked far too pleased with himself as he gathered up their gardening supplies. “I think those will hold up quite well to some gardening. Don’t you think? Now come, we’re wasting the morning.”

It was barely past dawn, temperatures were only going to be tolerable for a few hours until the suns hit their zenith, and they had a lot of work to do to get the garden set up. Most likely it would take several days before they were able to even get the plants in the ground, given that the majority of their day would be lost to waiting out the hot suns, and they couldn’t work into the night. It was unwise to leave lights shining overnight in the desert.

Obi-Wan could still hear Anakin grumbling under her breath as she pulled the adhesive strips tight around her arms and legs. Still, she followed him outside without much further complaint. The north facing side of their house was most shaded throughout the day and would be the best place to put the garden beds. Obi-Wan had gotten materials to build solid barriers between the garden beds and the rest of the desert sand to hopefully eliminate some nutrient loss – the compost and soil conditioner had not been cheap. First, they had to dig up the beds.

Obi-Wan was more than a little hesitant trusting Anakin with a shovel, but she made no move to turn it into a weapon, and after some time of silently working with her always in his eyesight, he felt marginally comfortable turning his back on her. With his senses on alert in the Force, he would know as she moved, if she tried to attack.

The suns crept higher in the sky, and as with most of their time together these days, they passed it in silence. The air got hotter by the minute, sweat trickled down Obi-Wan’s neck and back, but he kept working – it was hot but not unbearable yet. Not by Tatooine metrics, which he was quickly adapting to.

"Go away, you obnoxious little pest!" Anakin hissed vehemently, peppering in a few swears for flavor.

Obi-Wan checked over his shoulder to see what exactly was vexing her so. A lizard, the same color of rock and sand and maybe the length of his forearm from nose to tail had perched itself directly on the spot where Anakin was attempting to dig. The lizard hissed back at Anakin, flaring its neck ruff.

"Are we trying to dig into its nest?" he asked, while Anakin tried shoving the lizard out of the way with the blade of her shovel. Over and over again, it scurried back into her way.

"No, these lizards nest high in the cliffs. This one is just being a deliberate pain in the ass," she growled and made a grab for the lizard. It dodged her grasp, and in retaliation lunged at her and clamped its jaws around her finger.

"Oh, you think that's going to accomplish anything?" Anakin asked rhetorically, lifting her hand and moving to fling the lizard very far away.

"Wait!" Obi-Wan caught her wrist and aborted the attempted throw. "There's no need to hurt the creature."

Anakin growled, but lowered her arm. Obi-Wan wrapped his hands around the lizard's body and gently levered it off Anakin's finger. It hissed at Anakin again as he carried it away.

"Come on, little one, I'll put you somewhere safe." He placed the lizard on a flat rock near their boundary. "Now go on, there are better places for you to lurk. This one might be a little dangerous and unwelcoming."

The lizard turned and looked up at him, blinking twice.

"Or stay there, whatever suits you."

Obi-Wan turned and walked back to continue digging the garden. A couple minutes passed and he heard the tiny scuttling of claws against sand and rock. He turned to see the lizard behind him, sitting in his shadow, looking up like it expected something of him. He sighed. "Do you simply wish to be in the way? How very like Anakin," he muttered under his breath.

Acknowledged, the lizard scurried closer, dug its sharp little claws into his leg, climbed up his pants, and his back and settled on his shoulder. It was making a strange sound in its throat and rubbed its chin on his cheek.

Obi-Wan froze. "Anakin, is this normal behavior?"

She glanced over. "Nope." She turned back to her digging.

So helpful, thank you Anakin.

Obi-Wan gently lifted the lizard from his shoulder, carried it back to the stone and set it there once more. Almost immediately it scurried after him, climbing back to its perch on his shoulder. It was making that noise again, a low clicking rumble. _Purring_ , Obi-Wan realized, the lizard was purring at him. Quite the change in behavior from the aggressive way it hissed at Anakin.

"I please you can stay there. Please don't bite my ears."

The lizard settled comfortably on his shoulder, wrapping its tail around the back of his neck and draping it over his shoulder. It hardly moved while they worked through the morning and made a far better conversationalist than Anakin. Through the hot hours or work, Obi-Wan found himself growing rather fond of the little creature. She showed no sign of leaving when they had to retreat from the suns and he had no intention of sending her away.

"Why are you letting that thing into the house?" Anakin demanded as she tore off her plastic coverings.

"She seems to like me," Obi-Wan said simply.

"Canyon lizards don't make good pets."

"I think I'll call her Boga Jr."

Anakin sighed long and weary.

Obi-Wan directed an unseen smile at the floor as he undid his boots. Boga Jr. chittered happily on his shoulder.

It would be quite nice to have a friend in the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't know when the next chapter's going to come. Hopefully it won't take another 4 months, but I do know we'll be getting back into the angst and feels.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! If you wanna chat story, Star Wars, or anything else, you can find me on [Tumblr](http://beck-a-leck.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
